Cthulhutech: How Far is Far
by Legion Fardreamer
Summary: Tagers are dangerous. We all know that. How much more dangerous is one who takes pride in his work? An artist among a pack of artists who work together for the benefit of their craft?


**Cthulhutech: How Far is Far**

By Scott Tettamble

Karl awoke in slow stages. His lethargic limbs remained immobile as his sense of smell told him things about the room he was in. The combined scents of sweat and sex, the natural musk of the woman in his arms, and the perfume that remained on her clothes, all these things told him he was in his girlfriend's apartment.

His ears let him hear her steady breathing, which told him that she was still asleep, although he knew that if he was waking up, she would not be far behind. They had always been like that. Synchronized, almost. He always knew what she felt, because he was usually feeling the same way. It was how he had known to come see her the night before. Karl had been feeling lonely, and she had answered the door with a smile, a hug, and a gentle kiss.

Sezzony's breathing shifted minutely, and after a moment, she turned in his arms to plant a kiss on his lips, prompting him to finally open his eyes. It made little difference, as the room was pitch black, but he let his hands drift across her forehead, down her cheek, across her shoulder, and finally down her arm to clasp her hand in his own. She kissed him again, and snuggled into his chest.

"You always know how to make me feel better," she purred.

"Same for you," he whispered in reply, not wanting to disrupt the ambiance.

"What are your plans for today?"

He thought that one over, and then replied "I guess that would depend on you. What are your plans for today?"

"Well, I have class until four, and then I'm interning with Doctor Rothchild until seven. Pretty full day. After that, I'm free for the evening."

The feel of her lips brushed against his, and he pulled her against him even tighter.

"I have a couple of errands to run today, and then I thought maybe I'd hit the karaoke place over on Stillman street."

He heard her give a quick intake of breath, and then she asked "Are you going to bring your keyboard?"

"I can," he said with a grin. His musical talent was what had attracted her attention in the first place, the way she told the tale.

"I'll meet you there at eight, lover," she said in a voice that hinted at nothing, and promised everything. "Now then, we have an hour before I have to get up. What would you like to do?"

Karl sat alone at the kitchen table in Sezzony's apartment, reading the news on his PCPU. His girlfriend had already left for her college classes, rushing out the door with a quick but thorough kiss that left them both a little breathless.

The news he read on his PCPU was a bit different than what one might find on the normal news broadcasts, seeing as his was sent to him by the Eldritch Society, and was partly tailored for him. It was mostly to help him keep in touch with the group, and alert him to assignments. One article notified him that Lorekeeper Roberts wanted to speak with him today. Sighing with annoyance, Karl finished his tea, grabbed his backpack, and headed out the door.

Karl ignored all the stares and glares from his fellow Eldritch Society members, and made his way to where Lorekeeper Roberts usually worked.

Lorekeeper Roberts could best be described as a stern looking cancer victim. His hair, what little there was, was wispy and pale, and the man's skin sagged in places. It made him quite striking, and somewhat unnerving, as the man never smiled and was somewhat stronger than he looked. The most disturbing quality about the man, in Karl's opinion, was his ability to seemingly see out the back of his head. An ability that the Lorekeeper liked to demonstrate often.

"Good morning, boy."

"Good morning, Lorekeeper Roberts," Karl said respectfully. "You wanted to see me?"

The older man pulled a very large, and quite ancient looking, book from a nearby shelf. Handing it over to Karl, he said "Read that, and bring it back to me when you're done. We'll discuss what you've read, and how it applies to you."

Karl opened the book, as he sat down at a nearby table, and frowned as he realized that the language the book was written in was one he was unfamiliar with.

"Lorekeeper, I can't read this. I don't know this language at all."

Roberts stared at him incredulously, and said "You're a Tager, boy. You should know that tongue like the backside of that Nazzadi woman you're bedding with."

Karl's temper flared, and in an instant, he wore Slasher, his other skin and the source of his call sign. He gripped the the front of Roberts' robes, and lifted him up to eye level.

 _"Would you care to repeat that,"_ he growled menacingly.

The Lorekeeper's gaze turned steely, and he waved off the two Tagers that had shapeshifted and were coming to his defense.

"It's about time, Slasher. I've been getting tired of waiting for you to wake up."

Slasher lowered the man gently to the floor, and growled in frustration. Roberts continued as if nothing had happened.

"Now that you've finally gotten your head out of your ass, sit down and read the damn book. I have other things to do."

Slasher blinked in confusion, and his wings twitched in response to his near constant desire to find higher ground. Growling again, he released the Lorekeeper, took up the book, and then flapped his wings hard enough to take him to the ceiling. Once there, he gripped one of the support struts with his feet, and reopened the book.

He nearly dropped the book when he realized that he could now read the language easily. Not because he had suddenly gained new knowledge, but because he could now see all of it. Throwing a dirty look in the direction of the Lorekeeper, he shook his head and settled in to read.

An hour later, he looked up from his reading material to see that he had company on the ceiling in the form of one of his fellow Tagers.

Tagers were a diverse breed, and the symbionts were as different as they were frightening. Karl himself was one of the more rare forms, having bonded to a Vampire type symbiont. The Tager clinging easily to the ceiling next to him was bonded to an even more rare version known as a Widow. Oddly enough, the Widow Tager's callsign was Mercy, and she was one of the few friends that he had in the Society.

 _"Hi Mercy."_

 _"Hi Slasher. Whatcha doin'?"_

 _"Reading a thesis on the creation of the first crystal prison used on supernatural beings."_

The spider-like Tager blinked, and said _"Oh. Okay."_ Karl snorted, and said _"It's an assignment from Lorekeeper Roberts. He wants me to read it, and then I have to discuss it with him."_

Mercy grunted, and said _"I suppose since you can't remember anything from before, he thinks you need to be reeducated. Is it working?"_

Slasher shrugged, and replied _"I guess so. I just wish he wouldn't resort to making me want to kill him in order to teach me stuff. Seems like a waste of energy to me, but I'm not the teacher, so maybe I'm wrong."_

Mercy giggled, and said _"Well, we Tagers are an aggressive bunch. You have to admit that pissing us off gets our attention. Maybe that's what he's going for. He's making sure that he's got your attention, and then handing you your assignment to peak your curiosity while you're still focused. Ya think?"_

Slasher grunted in amazement.

 _"I hadn't thought of that. Maybe you're right."_

 _"Of course I am! Catch ya later, Slasher!"_

With that, the Widow Tager released her hold on the ceiling, and dropped to the floor, startling a few Society members who were using the archives. She giggled maniacally as she shifted back into her Nazzadi form, and left the room. Slasher merely shook his head, and continued reading.

A few hours later, he glided down to the floor. Snagging a scrap of paper, he used it as a bookmark. Handing it back to Lorekeeper Roberts, Karl returned to his human form muttering about being back in the morning. The Lorekeeper's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Where do you think you're going, boy? You need to be here, learning what you need to learn, not rutting with some black-skinned alien bimbo."

The two guardians tackled Karl to the ground before he got more than one step towards the old man, and they held him there until he looked up into the amused eyes of the Lorekeeper.

"You're not going to attack me again, boy. You'll learn that, if nothing else."

Nodding to the guardians, he rasped "Get him out of here, and let him cool off."

Karl snarled, but remained human.

"Just because I won't harm another Tager doesn't mean I won't kill you, you rotting skin sack! Don't you ever talk about her again!"

"Wait."

One of the guardians started to protest, citing the need to separate the Lorekeeper from a rather serious threat. Roberts silenced him with a look.

"Boy, if you really wish to understand why I say these things to you, all you need to do is ask. God knows I've tried every method I can think of to get you to ask questions, but you don't seem to care at all. Not about your past, not about the Society, not about the commitments you've made, nor anything else that's important."

The two Tagers holding him down nodded at each other, and released him. They knew he would talk before he fought now. Karl brushed himself off, still seething, but ready to talk.

"Important to who, old man? Me? Why should I care about my past? I can't remember it, and I don't buy into that crap about repeating mistakes. We don't need to repeat our mistakes, because we always find new and more interesting ways to screw up. Why should I care about the Society when most of you bastards have made it clear that you hate the air I breathe, even though you people helped make me what I am. As far as my commitments, if I didn't care about my commitments, I wouldn't bother showing up to this antiquated mausoleum."

Taking a step towards the Lorekeeper, Karl growled "I may not remember how I got my call sign, but I know what it is. I'm Slasher. I don't know what promises I made to the Eldritch Society, but I bust my ass to keep them. I don't know why I never had a pack, or why my metamorphosis failed, or even why you guys saved me since you all hate me so much, but I do know that I'm not the same guy who went into that cocoon. I'm not him, and I don't want to be him. I'm me, and I think it's high time you bastards got that through your skulls."

Turning on his heel, Karl headed for the door. As he reached it, he stopped, looked over his shoulder and said "Don't you ever say a word against my lover again, Roberts. I won't warn you again."

As he strode out of the archives, Mercy stepped out of the shadows, followed by she and Slasher's mutual friend and fellow Tager Harry Goslen, aka Zombie.

"I did try to warn you about this approach, Lorekeeper Roberts. You risk making a deadly enemy out of a powerful ally. It's been two years, and nothing you have tried has made any difference against his amnesia. I think he's right. We're going to have to accept the fact that the man who came out of the cocoon is not the one who went in."

"I still think," replied Roberts, "that if we could just get him away from that girl, we would have a chance of restoring his memory. Let me try one more thing, and if it doesn't work, we'll call it quits."

Mercy stared at the door for a moment, and without looking at Roberts, said "Very well, but beware what you do. Should you truly anger him, the guardians aren't strong enough to stop him. Few of us are, myself included. I don't think I like the idea of an enraged Vampire Tager tearing the archives apart looking for you because you chose to do something stupid."

"Besides," intoned Zombie. "I believe he is considerably more useful to us than you are. Wouldn't you agree? After all, his blooding killed more dhohanoids than most of us in this room combined, and he has continued to kill them ever since. Even after his failed metamorphosis, he has continued to earn his name. Slasher, the bloodied one, the failed Bloodgod, death on the wing, etcetera... Need I go on? It would take the combined might of several packs to take him down, should he turn on us. Thankfully, that is not a true fear. I do not believe he would turn on the Eldritch Society. You, however, have made a point to push every one of his buttons. I believe he would carry out his threat, and end your life."

Roberts glared at the Tager.

"You make your point as delicately as ever. Alright, then. I'll back off if you think that's wise. He still needs to be educated, and he does have a fine mind, even if there's a hole in it."

The club where Karl was to meet Sezzony was typical of most karaoke places. The proprietor, a tall, slender xenomix named Rika Jackson, saw Karl coming in the door, and grinned. He knew it was going to be a good night for business if Karl Sefton was walking into the club. He always sang several songs, and while they may have been old songs, it never failed to pack the house. Word traveled quickly about a young man with an excellent voice, and a penchant for singing songs from the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. Songs that could inspire just about any emotion, and never a dry eye in the house.

It was going to be a good night.

Karl waved as he saw the man, and walked over.

"Hi Mr. Jackson."

Another reason Rika liked the boy. He was always respectful.

"Karl! If I'd known you were coming in tonight, I'd have handed out flyers."

Karl could not help but smile at that.

"I've got my stuff with me, and about an hour until Sezzony gets here. You mind if I warm up a little?"

And there was the one thing that never ceased to confuse Rika. Karl Sefton always acted as if it was Rika doing him a huge favor by letting him sing in the club, and he never took any money for it. Rika had not told Karl, but he'd been using the money Karl refused to take to improve the club. The kid was damn near a silent partner, as far as Rika was concerned.

"The stage is yours, kid. Knock 'em dead tonight!"

Some of the club regulars called out greetings to him as he set up his keyboard. It was one of the older holographic models, but he'd had it enhanced with his sound mixing setup. It gave him most everything he needed for his music, and he was quite happy with it. Once he was done, he took the microphone in hand and ran through his usual warm up song. His delivery of Hotel California by the Eagles was always well received, and it did an excellent job of getting him warmed up for the night to come.

He followed that up with an instrumental that started getting everyone's blood pumping, and then followed that with a rendition of a couple of Disney songs that got everyone smiling. Halfway through his version of the song Here comes the Rooster, he saw Sezzony come in and take her usual seat, which Rika kept reserved whenever Karl came in to sing. He thought his heart skipped a beat when she smiled at him. It skipped another when he saw what she was wearing. It was tight, red, and not entirely up to the task of hiding anything. If he didn't know better, Karl would have sworn it was little more than a red ribbon that she had wrapped around her to look like a dress. He winked to show his appreciation, and wrapped up his song.

Taking a short break, he stepped off the stage to pull her up from her seat, twirl her around one time, and then kiss her thoroughly. Leaning back a little, he asked "Is that thing made of what it looks like it's made of?"

Her smile was the definition of the word "naughty."

"Do you like it? I've been saving it for a rainy day."

Karl's own smile turned mischievous.

"Well, that's funny. I've got a couple of songs that I've been saving. I'd say it's my turn now."

Turning back to the stage, he took the mike, and said with a smirk "Okay guys and gals. Warm up is done. I found a couple of classics to add to my menu, and I think you might just like the subject matter."

With that, he launched into "Waiting for Tonight." Upon finishing, he segued right into "Feeling too damn good" by Nickleback. After that, he went into one that had truly caught his heart. "Love song for a vampire," by Annie Lennox, whom he adored, and then followed with another Nickleback song called "Far Away."

He took another break, and went to the bar for a drink. Sezzony started to join him, but was interrupted by a man who had already been drinking heavily, and was getting kind of loud. Karl saw the man place a hand on her shoulder, and put down his drink.

George Camber was a man on a mission. He was finally going to talk to that gorgeous Sezzony that he had seen in class. He was slurring his speech a little, but he didn't think she would notice. He wasn't THAT drunk. Oops! She was trying to walk around him. That wouldn't work. He put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, but before he could say anything, he felt a hand clap on his own shoulder. Damn it! Her boyfriend. The guy was a freak, singing all that old junk. Wait a second... That hand clamped on his shoulder was starting to hurt. It was pinching that nerve just above the collarbone, and things were starting to get a little hazy around the edges. Wait a second... The freak was saying something.

"Apologize to the lady. Now."

"Get offa me, you freak!"

The hand on his shoulder vanished. George straightened himself up a little, and turned to face the freak.

"That's more like it."

What he saw was a very sexy looking Nazzadi woman (Aw, who was he kidding! All those Nazzadi women were sexy!) standing between himself and Karl. A human with a cold expression had Karl by the arm and was talking with him quietly. Karl had his eyes closed, and appeared to be doing some kind of deep breathing technique. That was not what drew George's attention, however.

The object of his attention was the heavy pistol that Karl held in his right hand, and that the cold eyed man was trying to get it away from him. They held it low, and in the shadows, so noone else could see it. George started to call attention to it, but Mercy grabbed his jaw with her right hand, her grip like a vice.

"I just saved your life," she whispered in his ear. "Say thank you, and walk away right now, like a good boy."

The look in her eyes was enough to get through the alcohol, and George got the message. He walked away, urine staining his trousers.

Harry leaned forward, and said over her shoulder "Okay. I got his gun, and he's headed back onstage for another song. We're going to have to watch him tonight, though. He is seriously pissed off."

Mercy sighed quietly, and said "Yeah. I know."

Sezzony blinked at the exchange, and turned to Mercy.

"Umm, thanks, I think. Are you guys friends of Karl's?"

Mercy and Harry sat down at the table with her, and Mercy made introductions.

"Yes. I'm Mercy, and this is Harry Goslen. You're Sezzony, right? I feel like we already know you! Karl talks about you all the time. We were hoping to catch up with you, and introduce ourselves."

Sezzony started to reply, but Karl's voice cut across the room.

"Sorry about that, gang. I should know better. This isn't a night to get angry. This isn't even a night to feel depressed. This is a night to remember what it's like to feel alive! Are you ready to feel alive?!"

The roar of the crowd was swiftly followed by the drum track of ZZ Top's "Gimme all your lovin'," and everyone seemed to forget about the fight that almost was. Sezzony was jamming out with the rest of the crowd, but after a moment she seemed rather subdued. Mercy noticed, and commented on it.

"Sezzony? Is something wrong?"

"Mercy? Is it just me, or does he seem like he's still angry?"

Mercy's eyes shifted towards the stage, and more specifically, to Karl's eyes. Normally, he closed them when he played music, but right then, they were open. Open, and tracking movement in the crowd.

Turning slowly, she looked where her friend was looking, and saw a most unwelcome sight.

Two known dhohanoids were moving over towards the bar. Nudging Harry, she heard him say "I know. I saw them. Slasher sees them too, and he is looking a bit happier for it. Sort of."

Mercy could not stop the groan that escaped her.

"Well, they won't last long in the mood he's in. There's nothing for it, I guess. Unless you think we can lure them out?"

Harry stared at her incredulously.

"In the mood he's in?! You're joking, surely. He's overdue, you know. I'm not getting in the way of that."

Mercy winced, and closed her eyes in frustration.

"This whole day has been going to hell on a bullet train."

Harry had escorted Sezzony about halfway back to her apartment when Karl and Mercy caught up to them, both grinning brightly. Knowing what that smile on both of their faces meant, Harry smiled slightly himself. His sex life with Mercy tended to take a sharp upturn when she was allowed to indulge in the tendencies of her symbiote. He would have to thank Slasher for including her later.

Sezzony took one look at their faces, and immediately thought something else. She glared at Mercy, and then hissed "So did you two have a good time together?"

Mercy, who was in a state of horny bliss, giggled girlishly.

"Yep! Thanks for the help, Karl. C'mon Harry! I need lots and lots of sex."

Sezzony blinked twice, utterly confounded. She watched them leave, and then turned to Karl, who was still grinning like an idiot.

"What did you two do?"

Karl shook his head, and said "I just helped her get some artwork ready for viewing. I almost feel sorry for Harry. He's in for a wild night."

Sighing in relief, she reached up to pull him over to her by his belt buckle, and stood on her tip toes to kiss him lightly.

"You're in for a wild night yourself, Mister."

Karl was going through his morning routine with a slight smile on his face. Between butchering the two Dhohanoids with Mercy, and the aggressive sex with Sezzony afterward, he was feeling like he could make war on the world and win. His lover had already left for school, and he was enjoying his morning coffee while reading the news.

His slight smile became a feral grin when he saw the report about the two men found torn apart in an alley. He would have to show Mercy and Zombie the article. They would like it too.


End file.
